Eloquently Running
by Perspicacious XIII
Summary: Jessica was brought up with FDR – he's like her brother – and this is how she squeezes herself into the film. With her feelings for Tuck being less than platonic but not romantic enough to act on, Jess flows into the story but only changes it slightly. Tuck/OC…in due course but drama aplenty! With stalkers, explosions and things for appearance's sake life isn't easy but it's fun!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello and welcome to my first fanfic! Too much? Yeah, I thought so. I've been writing for a long time but this story simply wouldn't leave my head so I decided to put it out there, or here…. Anyway, I won't make any promises but I hope to update this about once a week. Feedback either by review or PM would be much appreciated because if I don't know what I'm doing wrong I can't fix it.**

**This first chapter is a bit of a filler just to give a sense of how they interact with each other and where relationships stand. I assume you know this but I don't own This Mean War in any way, shape or form. I do, however, own Jessica, Stuart and anyone else who might pop in that you don't know.**

**Summary: Jessica was brought up with FDR – he's like her brother – and this is how she squeezes herself into the film. With her feelings for Tuck being less than platonic but not romantic enough to act on, Jess flows into the story but only changes it slightly. Tuck/OC…in due course but drama aplenty! With stalkers, explosions and things for appearance's sake life will never be easy when your associated with the CIA.**

**Read, enjoy and…review?**  
**Much love and thanks,**  
**Liv.**

I sat with my back against a tree on the cool grass staring out at the ten perfectly set tables on the lawn and the people sitting at or running between them. Family, that's who these people were and the two men with their backs currently to me were the ones I was closest to. Well, Tuck wasn't _actually_ family and I didn't think of him like that but to FDR he was. I had been forced into a dress for the occasion – a horrific piece of fabric that was like a tight black t-shirt at the top connected to a flowing white skirt – with my boring, unruly brown hair tied loosely at my neck.

"Why the heck are you two sittin' over here all by yourselves?" I heard Nana ask and focused my attention to the table a few feet away from me. "You're not going to make me any great-grandbabies this way!"

Un-oh, that talk again! I stood up and tried to inconspicuously slip away.

"It is a family gathering Nana; I don't think you want us making any great-grandbabies today." FDR quipped.

"To be fair," Tuck added "I have already provided you with a _wonderful_ great-grandchild." That was true, Joe was amazing.

"Yeah but that doesn't count because you screwed it all up!" Nana replied.

"Ouch." Tuck said at the same moment I thought it.

"And don't think you can slink off Missy!" Nana called making me cringe and turn around. "You are no closer to children than these two lumps!"

Said two lumps grinned at me and stood up.

"Hey Jessie." FDR said as he hugged me.

"Hey." I replied after kissing his cheek. "Hi Tuck." I said and repeated the process with him.

"How've you been love?" he asked me as I sat down next to him.

"Same old." I said with a smile. "You two? Been keeping out of trouble?" It was my subtle way of asking if they had nearly been killed lately.

"Not really but it keeps life interesting." he replied with an adorable grin.

I had found out seven years ago that they both worked for the CIA because, really, when you find a false wall hiding a small armoury in your brother's house the truth is the only explanation that will wash. When you look at the Foster family tree it will tell you that Franklin Delano Roosevelt Foster and Jessica Jane Foster are cousins – my mum and his dad – but we both grew up with Nana and 'cousins' simply doesn't cover how close we are.

"Well?" Nana asked.

"Nana you know how much I want a family! I've just _never dated_ a guy that's worth having one with." I said truthfully.

"Have you at least _met_ someone who is?" she pushed.

Now, I could just be paranoid but I'm pretty sure that when her eyes swept over the three of us they stayed on Tuck for a beat to long before looking pointedly at me. If the guys noticed though they didn't say anything.

"Yes." Nana always said that 'honesty's the best policy'.

"Then why have I not got any great-grandbabies?" she asked disbelievingly.

"Unrequited feelings are a bitch!" I said brightly but bitterly and took to looking at the table and clenching my jaw to keep my emotions in – I suddenly had the urge to cry.

"Come on Louelle," I heard my Grandpa's gravelly voice say and looked up from the uninteresting design to see him giving Nana a kiss. "Let's show these kids how it's done, huh?" they both gave us meaningful looks before he escorted her to the dance area.

"It's kinda gross when they kiss." FDR complained and I nodded but Tuck didn't seem to notice. "God I love that kid." he continued, oblivious to his friend's stupor.

I let out a soft chuckle as my…second cousin once-removed Daniel fell to ground with a blue bucket on his head.

"S'goin' on?" he finally asked Tuck through a mouthful of cake. The latter-mentioned had been staring at our grandparents since they had started dancing. "Hey, Mister Deep-in-thought." he said prodding Tuck with his fork. He replied with an absentminded 'hmm?' and FDR asked "Wanna talk about it?"

After a couple of failed attempts to form words Tuck finally said "Nothing, I just think it's lovely isn't it? It's really lovely."

I glanced back at the older couple dancing and conceded that he did have a point – to be able to have someone like that: to have loved and been with someone for all those year and to still be able to share simple things like a dance and to get lost in each other's eyes…

"What's lovely?" FDR asked and I rolled my eyes – he was so dense sometimes.

"Well I love the way they look into each other's eyes like that." Tuck explained with a hint of awe in his voice.

"I'm _pretty_ sure that's the cataracts." FDR said and I suppressed a snort.

"Okay look, you asked me a serious question didn't you?" my attention was piqued by this. When FDR nodded in affirmation and made a vague noise of agreement Tuck asked "Right, so what, do you want a serious answer?"

"Do you want me to put the cake down is that…?" "Yes please, thank you." "The cake is down, talk to me." He said, turning in his chair to face his best friend.

"Right, seriously, man show," Tuck began.

"What am I, a soap dish?" I interrupted making both spies jump – I didn't think it was possible so I gave myself a mental pat on the back – they had forgotten me!

"No! I-uh…" Tuck stammered.

"It's fine." I assured him. "I'll see you guys later."

They both looked apologetic which made me smile as I stood up. I kissed both of them on the tops of their heads as I passed them and wound my way through masses of my family.

I heard Tuck begin "I trust you. I know you'd do anything for me, I'd do anything…"

Another smile worked its way onto my face, I loved those guys!

**TmWtMwTmWtMw**

"Hey you two." I called as I make my way from the bar.

After receiving two kisses on the cheek I hopped onto one of the pool tables that wasn't being used – Tuck had his back to me.

"So let me get this straight: you've put your personal, private details on a very public website?" FDR asked in bewilderment.

"Yes." Tuck sighed, turning to shoot me a glare – I had choked on my beer at FDR's question.

"Are you insane?" he and I asked.

"No." he replied.

I'll admit, the way he said it made my toes curl and my mouth twitch into a grin.

"What're you talking about anyway?" I chimed in.

"Tuck's registered with an online dating service!" FDR crooned. Queue me choking again.

"Where are taking her?" FDR smirked.

"Don't do that to me!" he said but I could hear the prominent smile on his face.

Then something hit me. Tuck had put his details on a _dating_ website. He was looking to date someone. There is something you should know about my relationship with Tuck Hansen: I like him. It's a complicated like though because I've known him for ten years and we've always been close. But my feelings aren't 100% platonic; most of the time they're more like…60% though that can shift a bit. Which is enough for my heart to beat just a wee bit faster when he's around and a smile to be on my face most of that time and for some of the small, almost insignificant, things that he does to make my insides squirm pleasantly; but not enough for me to want to jeopardise our amazing friendship. When he'd met and married Katie I was fairly okay with it; though my average mood level did drop by a fraction and I'd find myself in need of a pint of Ben and Jerry's at odd times.

"You're such a cheese ball!" FDR exclaimed in a voice a few octaves higher than normal – I'd have to thank him later for pulling me out of my thoughts.

"What?" Tuck asked bashfully.

"Look, here's how it's gonna go down: you're gonna go on this date and I'm gonna go on this date with you." FDR stated.

At this point I forsook my beer – I was getting pretty tired of snorting it up again – at gave my attention fully to the two men in front of me, the mood had just turned serious.

"No you're not!" Tuck declared.

"Yes I am! I'm scared for you man: you haven't done this in a long time. This girl could be all sorts of crazy." he defended which made Tuck laugh. "And besides, half those girls pee standing up Tuck, and the other half are on one of our watch-lists!"

"It's just a date." I tried when Tuck sighed – why was I sticking up for this?

"Well lucky for you I'm free tonight." FDR continued. "I'm gonna bring the binoculars, I'm gonna bring the hand cream-"

"Franklin!" I warned.

"I'll keep a hundred-yard radius – it'll be sweet stuff."

"Or you could just let the poor bugger go on his date alone! There's this thing called privacy. You only want to see if this girl's hot so you can steal her!" I suggested.

"Thank you!" Tuck said. "Wait…"

"I would never!" FDR exclaimed in mock horror.

"Anyway…besides I'm not comfortable with you watching me date, it's wrong. It's just wrong mate." Tuck said reaching for his beer and taking a swig of it.

"Fine, I'll be around the corner on ringtone; I'll be at the video store. One ring means you need an extraction, two means you need a cleaner, three means I can get home." he compromised.

Tuck considered this.

"Two hundred yards." he stated.

"Sold!"

The two friends laughed and I joined in but felt the need to voice "This could end badly you know."

"Ah, you worry too much." FDR said. "To dating!" he toasted and we chinked bottles.

I caught sight of the clock on the far wall and swore – verifying with my watch I leapt off the table. I'd only have an hour to get ready!

"Shit, I'm late!" I said. "I'll see you guys later." I tossed over my shoulder as I shot out of there to hail a cab.

I heard vague calls goodbye as I overanalysed every item of clothing in my wardrobe to figure out what to wear on my date. I had been planning to tell them about it but hearing that FDR was planning to recon' Tuck's I had decided not to. Stuart seemed like a nice guy – we'd met briefly a few times at work (we were both hired geeks for the military) so I'd seen no harm in accepting a date. Hindsight is great thing though.

**Thank you for sticking with it! I know it's not that amazing but it should get better when I get into the swing of it.  
What do you think of Jessie? How is my characterisation? Did you like it/love it/hate it? Please let me know!  
****Much love and thanks,**  
**Liv.**


	2. Chapter 2

**So here's the second chapter and thank you to anyone who waited around to read it! Thank you to my four reviewers, I'm glad you are enjoying it :) and to my nine followers (at the time of writing this) but could you maybe, writer to writer, leave a quick review or PM me? Reviews are love on this site and it would really help to know what you all think.  
A quick thing I need to tell you is that I have changed Jessie's occupation: she is no longer a 'hired geek' but a doctor. I know that's a big change but I felt that it fits in better.  
Again, I am ashamed to admit that I do not own This Means War :(  
Read, enjoy and…review?**  
**Much love and thanks,**  
**Liv.**

I tugged nervously at the end of my navy-blue top and glanced around the street again. It transpired that having only an hour to get ready wasn't a problem for me – I'd changed into a nicer pair of black jeans, found a decent top and struggled to buckle a pair of heels, touched up my make-up and hair then I was ready with a whole twenty minutes to spare!

I was five minutes early showing up at the café where we were supposed to meet and FDR's offer of being on ringtone for Tuck was feeling like a fantastic idea; why had I not told them? Why had I accepted this date? Stuart was a pretty nice guy – good looks, height and a great doctor – but saying 'yes' had been a spontaneous decision: there was no attraction on my part and I was only realising that as I sat waiting for him. As soon as I started contemplating leaving and calling him to say I was ill I felt a hand on my back and jumped. Stuart's bobbed hair entered my peripheral vision; a second later he was sitting in front of me.

We ordered coffee, discussed recent patients (leaving names out), there was some awkward silence then we exchanged trivial and clichéd information, after some more muteness we talked further about work then left with a parting kiss on the cheek. It was boring. I managed to keep smiling and civil but by the half-way point my fingers were itching to call Tuck or FDR for an extrusion, no extraction, they called it an extraction. I hadn't truly known the definition of disaster until I went on that date and as I walked home I promised myself one thing: never again. I would lie and make feeble excuses, make brilliant excuses and possibly even tell him I was gay to get out of _ever_ going on a date with that man again.

Once I was inside my home I noticed I had two new messages and when I listened to the first I felt instantly guilty: Tuck had called. He was worried because I'd left the bar so quickly and wanted to confirm that we were still going to the carnival on Friday. I resolved to phone him after the next message. Stuart. He explained with relative ease that he had really enjoyed the date and couldn't wait to see me again; he tagged on at the end that he thought my eyes were 'the most beautiful blue oceans I've ever seen and I would happily drown in them!'. I gave the answering machine a distasteful look and cleared the inbox.

Tuck didn't answer his phone when he called so I left a voicemail:

"Hey, it's me. I'm sorry I ran out on you guys, I had a- a thing to do but I'll tell you later. And yeah, of course I'm up for going to the carnival! I've only been looking forward to it for three weeks! Besides, I want to see what this 'surprise' you've set up is. Anyway…yeah, talk soon." I was such a spaz when it came to leaving messages!

I had been in half a mind to ask about _his_ date but even the thought of it was enough to make me bite my lip and frown – something they had both pointed out was tell when it came to me being distressed and/or angry.

It was during times like this that my platonic feelings for him took a back seat. I let myself get jealous or wonder what it would be like if we were together: holding his hand, lying together on the couch, just being close to him; my thoughts were disciplined not to stray anywhere near kissing him in fear of…well, I'm not sure what but I knew without a doubt that if I started fantasising about that it would have an impact on our friendship. When I told him about my date would he be jealous? Would he get the same unplaceable ache taking up root in his body? I knew that mine was still there. Urgh, I needed ice-cream!

I spent my night watching Marvel films, not noticing my phone lighting up more and more frequently, and fell asleep on the sofa.

**TmWtMwTmWtMw**

The new day welcomed various things including twenty-seven texts from my new stalker, one missed call from Tuck (I wondered how long this game of phone tag would last) and an aching shoulder. Stuart had started off complimenting me then asked if I was free on Saturday night. By about text thirteen he was wondering if I was okay – why wasn't I replying? – and by twenty had concluded that I was intentionally ignoring him. He wanted to know what he'd done wrong and if we could work it out. Mentally noting that I should show FDR or Tuck as soon as I saw either of them I sent a quick reply saying that I had my phone off last night, was busy on Saturday and I wasn't ignoring him.

Holding onto the fact I was only in work for six hours that day I was cleaned, dressed, nourished and out the door with my travel mug of coffee in a respectable time. I listened to Shinedown for the twenty minute drive to CIA headquarters – I worked in the medical centre there two days a week thanks to FDR putting in a word or two for me (I didn't ask him to!). I was through building security, one floor underground, changed and clocking in for six-am. Fridays were a popular day to be injured it seemed. It reminded me of the ER in Mission Hospital where I normally worked but the explanations for the wounds were always more colourful here. Instead of someone slicing open their hand with a letter opener you get an agent who deflected a Samurai sword; falling down the stairs wasn't an accident it was the only way to avoid the cascade of bullets. Every CIA agent that walked – or limped or was wheeled – through the doors was wonderful. No matter what their ailment was they had a joke or even just a smile for me and the others though it was hard not to see the funny side of pulling a bullet out of someone's backside!

My usual twelve hour shift was short today because I had covered for someone the week before and she was returning the favour so at quarter past twelve I was heading up to the second floor. I wandered through the maze of glass and cubicles to the office at the back and leaned against the clear wall. Tuck was typing rapidly, his eyes scanning the screen with an uncharacteristic scowl on his face. FDR was nowhere I could see.

"Knock knock." I called and his eyes smoothly slid to me.

"Hey Sweetheart, how're you?" he asked as he sat the keyboard on the desk.

"Same old." I said with a shrug, seating myself behind my brother's desk. "Is FDR around? There's something I needed to talk to you guys about."

"I'm not sure where he is at the moment actually, is everything alright?"

"Yeah yeah, it can wait." I assured him with a smile. "How're you by the way?"

He let out a huff of air and leaned back so he was facing the ceiling – this wasn't the reaction I'd been expecting. He was silent for some length of time. I knew that there was something that he wanted to get off his chest but he was struggling with whether or not to tell me. It made me get up from FDR's desk and perch on the edge of his.

"FDR's dating Lauren." he said in a monotone.

Lauren? I scrolled through the names of Tuck's ex's in my head; it was a short list but held no Lauren's.

"Who's Lauren?"

"The girl I had a date with last night." Ah. Wait what?

"I didn't know FDR _had_ a girlfriend, are you sure they're dating?" I questioned.

"They met at the video store after our date." I hated how emotionless he was being.

"And you're _sure_ she agreed to go on a date with him? You know what he's like!" I said.

"Yes." he almost snapped. "We have a 'Gentleman's Agreement'." he told me cynically.

"Which, you know, would require Franklin to actually _be_ gentleman?" I said hoping to make him smile. The best I got was a small twitch from the left side of his mouth. "So what's this agreement?"

"Simple: we don't tell her that we know each other; we stay out of each other's way; no hanky-panky and if it affects us then we walk away." he listed.

"God, do I even need to point out the flaws in this plan? Namely that it's already affecting your friendship?" I asked incredulously.

"It is not!" he retorted.

"And when she finds out?" I said.

"She won't!"

"What about Joe?" I persisted.

He opened his mouth to reply but paused to think before saying "What about him?" in confusion.

"What if – not this whole thing but just dating Laura-" "Lauren!" he interrupted. "Sorry! What if dating Lauren affects your relationship with Joe?" I asked gently.

"It. Won't!" he ground out as he sat up to look at me.

"Please, just promise me that if it does you'll walk away." I said seriously – family was vital to me.

Sensing my distress Tuck's features softened.

"I'll walk away." he vowed.

"Thank you." I all but sighed.

He gave me another smile that did peculiar things to my insides and glanced at his screen, looking guiltily back at me.

"I'll let you get some work done." I laughed. "But we're still on for the carnival tonight, right?"

"Oh." The smile glided off my face and was replaced by a look of confusion – guilt covered his. "I uh…I'm working tonight: Collins wants a lot of paperwork done for tomorrow."

I have no training in profiling or micro expressions but I knew he was leaving something out. Trying my best not to look as dejected as I felt I said "It's okay. I know you had a surprise for me but…it fine, really. We can go another or I can go by myself."

"Don't!" he said quickly. "I mean, I _really _wanted to go with you. Can we just wait until another time?"

"Sure." I said. "I'll see you around."

I slid off the desk and accepted the hug he offered after standing up. I could feel how tense he was but with his head on my shoulder he sighed and relaxed slightly; I tightened my arms around his waist and focused on the feeling of his heartbeat under my cheek. He smelled like he always did: warm new wood, raw suede and just…manly.

"You'll be fine." I murmured as I pulled back reluctantly. Tuck smiled and kissed my forehead.

"Bye Jess." he said absently as turned to leave. "Hey!" he called after me, catching my wrist gently. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

"It's nothing." I repeated, waving it away.

**TmWtMwTmWtMw**

At about half past six that night my phone rang. I paused the episode of Supernatural – the one about the traveling carnival – and answered.

"Have you heard from Tuck?" FDR asked.

"Hello to you too. And no, he's got paperwork to do tonight – how'd you get outta that one?" I joked.

"Easy," he replied smoothly. "We didn't have any."

"Well he did: we were supposed to go to the carnival tonight but he had paperwork to do." I explained.

"We've been grounded for four days, our paperwork's up-to-date." he argued.

"He wouldn't lie to me!" I said stubbornly before hanging up on him.

Despite my words doubt crept up on me before I could stop it. _Would_ he lie to me? If he didn't want to go all he had to do was say…unless he didn't want to go with _me_. Would he take Lauren?

As I made for my freezer – my new best friend it seemed – my phone began to vibrate in my pocket: I was popular tonight. My first instinct upon seeing Stuart's name was to hit 'decline' and I was about to but…I was kind of mad a Tuck now and maybe he wouldn't like me dating Stuart.

"Hello?" I asked neutrally.

"Hey babe." Cringe count: 1.

"Uh, hi." I said lamely.

"So, I was wonderin' if you're free tomorrow? For coffee or a movie or…?" he trailed off to let me answer.

"Sure!" I said too brightly. Cringe count: 2. "Em, yeah we could go see a movie."

"Great! I'll pick you up at one." he told me and promptly hung up.

Sighing, I thunked onto a chair, letting my head fall painfully forward to connect the kitchen table. 'What. An. Idiot!' I thought. Then again, we wouldn't need to talk during a film…. While my anger was still detectable I texted Tuck:

_Honesty's the best policy. _

Deciding that a shot would do me more good than ice-cream I collected a glass and a bottle of Jack Daniels before resuming fulfilling my addiction to Dean and Sam. A good distraction, that's what I needed! Well, that and a life.

**Turbulence between Tuck and Jess :( I know it was short and still a bit filler-ish but the next chapter is where things start to develop, I promise. It should be up by this time next week, conceivably earlier…  
Any thoughts? Advice? Constructive criticism? Abuse? I'll take anything!  
Thanks again to Lordoftheringschick2000, IAmTheStars, RealMcCoy16 and RollTideRoll10 for your reviews :D  
****Much love and thanks,  
Liv.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I am so sorry! I know it's been longer than a week since my last update and I won't make excuses. I'll only say that I've passed my driving test since my last update and have experienced the horrors of having very limited/no internet. **

**JohnnyStormsGirl, igetupseteasily, RealMcCoy16, TiffanyHart98, jaa162, IHeartJensen, Ctinaisfashion and clear-purple-skye thank you for your reviews: I loved them, they made me write the longest chapter yet! I cannot believe I have 19 followers!**

**Ctina, (you reviewed chapter one but I think ch 2 as Ctinaisfashion) I was going to leave the end of this for the next chapter but I put it in for you – enjoy!**

**As always:**  
**Read, enjoy and…review?**  
**Much love and thanks,**  
**Liv.**

When I awoke the next morning – blessedly without a hangover – I texted Stuart to tell him I'd meet him wherever he was planning to go but he replied adamantly that he'd be at my place at one. I didn't like that (not that I told him so). I had a strict rule: no guys at my house. By guys I mean nobody I'm dating so that if anything happens I know that my home is a safe place. Stuart knowing where I lived without me even telling him set off a bump in the back of my mind that told me to be careful.

A knock on the door downstairs brought me out of my brooding and a once-over in the mirror told me that I looked acceptable: hair down, chequered shirt, jeans…you get the picture. Stuart was in similar attire but I forced myself to really…look at him. His hair was tied back, a sandy blonde colour and possibly in need of a wash; he was tall (6'3" maybe) and leaning heavily towards being too thin with murky green eyes and at least a month's worth of stubble that I gave myself brownie points for not cringing away from when his unshaven face scratched my cheek as he kissed it.

"How did you know my address?" I asked as I locked the door and followed him to his car.

"I know lots of things." he replied with a wink as we got in.

Cringe count: 3.

_The Avengers: Assemble_ at the Fiesta Twin Theatre was our choice – I'd seen it with Tuck and FDR but had no qualms about watching it again! – and everything was fine until about half way through. He clumsily executed the clichéd yawn-and-stretch to put his arm around the back of my seat. Cringe count: 4. I let this slide. When it curled around my shoulder (cc: 5) I took a deep breath and bared it – this was my fault and Karma was nothing if not fair. As we left he took my hand in his too-warm, clammy one (cc:6)but luckily the couple in front of us stopped abruptly so I dodged the other way and slipped it into my pocket. My reasons for not wanting any more contact with Stuart were mockingly coming back to me: awkward silence, general creepiness…

"Wanna grab a coffee?" he questioned when we were back in his car – it could have used a wash and clean out but maybe I was being overly critical.

"Actually I have a lot of stuff I need to get done, sorry. Could you maybe drop me back at my place?" My answer seemed to irritate him somewhat but he made no verbal complaints as we drove away in silence.

I ignored my phone when it vibrated to tell me I had a text and ten minutes later Stuart was switching off the engine and turning in my direction, obviously waiting for me to say something.

"Look Stuart, I had a nice time and all but I domtfin-" I started but my words were smothered by his lips.

They felt foreign against my own; like cool slugs trying to merge with my face. He was moving his head in small circles in front of mine creating a bizarre sensation as he forced his hand into my hair. Utterly perplexed, it was a few un-enjoyable moments before I could bring my hands up to shove him away.

"Don't!" I burst out before I thought it through. "I was trying to say that I don't think this will work: I didn't the first time we went out but I gave you the benefit of the doubt. You just proved why I was wrong! God, just leave me alone, please."

As I strode towards my front door I heard a car door slam and footsteps following me. Reaching for my phone, I didn't have time to do anything before a strong hand grabbed my upper arm and dragged me to face its owner.

"You played me!" Stuart accused. Anger and mortification had morphed his usually hansom face into something quite grotesque; it reminded me of a hairy gargoyle.

"I-I didn't I-" Trying to defend myself vocally wasn't working because I was so damned confused by his personality change so I did the only other thing a girl can do: I introduced my knee to his balls.

He produced a satisfying cough/groan/splutter sound but I had no time to revel in it because I had noticed a fundamental flaw in my plan: he still had hold of my arm. As I struggled to release his grip he gathered his senses. One look at his face as he straightened up told me what was going to happen next; his right fist, complete with some sort of fraternity ring, slammed into my face just below my eye. The impact caused tears to cloud my vision and the pain registered somewhere but he had let go of me so I managed to avert a fall and propel myself towards the house, unlocking my phone and attempting to call FDR all the while. When I realised that my _door_ was still locked and that that was nowhere near as easy to rectify I focused hit hitting 'call' and turned to face my attacker with my back to the door and my phone to my ear. This made Stuart pause.

"Hey FDR, you busy at the moment?" I forced a normal tone when my brother answered; Stuart began backing off.

"Em…no not just now, why? What's up?" he asked distractedly. "Jessie?" I hadn't answered as I'd been watching Stuart drive away.

Letting out a breath I said "Nothing, I'd just heard about this whole Lauren thing and wanted to chew you out. It can wait though, I gotta go." I hung up and quickly locked myself inside.

Three shots of Jäger later I ventured close enough to a mirror to inspect the damage. A rough circle had been cut lightly into my cheekbone only a couple of centimetres from my eye and I could see through my foundation that a bruise was beginning to appear. My goal until it left: avoid Tuck and FDR. My goal for the moment: ice.

**TmWtMwTmWtMw**

Avoiding FDR proved an easy task (I think he was rather focused on this Lauren chick) but Tuck was more of a challenge: the text I had received in the car had been from him, asking what I'd meant. I'd childishly not answered and spent Sunday lazing about and planning excuses for my face and avoiding the cause of it. I came up with this:

"My eye? Oh god I feel like suck a klutz! I tripped over my shoes that I'd left in the hall and caught my eye on the door handle. Seriously! I was so mortified but laughing at myself at the same time. I'm such a spaz, really!"

I had the week off from Mission hospital so the second excuse could wait until I felt more creative because the tripping explanation was paper-thin at best. I _was_, however, working at the CIA on Tuesday and those guys knew a punch when they saw one. I decided on my way there that morning to just tell them the truth; my bruise was changing from blue to brown so it was impossible to conceal anyway.

"Who did _that_?" my supervisor, Gemma, asked the minute I emerged from the changing room.

"A guy I work with at the Mission." I grumbled.

"And you got Tuck and FDR to kick his ass right?" she said in astonishment – my association with them was common knowledge around there.

"Get us to kick whose arse?" I heard before I could answer.

"Thanks!" I whispered darkly to my friend as I turned to face another.

He had some dried blood on the left side of his face but seemed more concerned about scanning mine so I looked pointedly down and to the left, indicating the bruise. He closed the gap between us to get a better look.

"What happened?" Tuck asked quietly as his fingers ghosted over my cheekbone.

I shrugged him off and took a step back if only to have space to think and breathe: two things it seemed I couldn't do when he was that close.

"It's a long story that ended with him leaving." I said coolly.

"I've _got_ time." he argued.

"Yeah, for Lauren. But whatever, I don't: I'm working." I snapped and turned to leave.

When he caught my upper arm I flinched and inhaled even though his grip was soft; he released me immediately but I turned to face him. He pointed to his injury. I rolled my eyes and nodded towards a curtained-off room, heading to the filing cabinet to get his records.

"What is it this time?" I asked when I returned.

"A bump on the head and maybe a cracked rib or two."

"You did this yesterday!" I accused. "Why are you only being looked at now?"

"I had recon' work to do." he defended but when I raised my eyebrows and he added guiltily "at Lauren's."

"You _bugged _your girlfriend's _house_?" I said incredulously, forgetting that he was a patient at the moment.

"What's wrong with being British?" he said, changing the subject.

"Nothing," I said caught off-guard. "But I went to two boarding schools and a university in Scotland so I can't judge. Why?"

"True," he said absently. "Just something Lauren said. Anyway, _what happened_?" he repeated and I knew what he was asking. I didn't think I'd like Lauren when I met her.

Helping him take off his shirt, I began to explain my situation but avoided telling him exactly who Stuart was. I slipped my right arm out of my white coat at one point to show him the bruise there and he remained patiently and seething quiet during my monologue.

"Why did you even agree to a second date?" he asked when I finished.

Luckily I had my back to him at that point so he didn't see me cringe – I had _really_ been hoping that he wouldn't that question. I stopped writing and said quietly "You lied to me."

"When?" he said, matching my volume.

Lacking the willpower to turn around, I continued with my back to him.

"You didn't have any paperwork; you took Lauren to the carnival."

"Jess I-"

"Don't!" I interrupted. "Don't _lie_ to me again or make crappy excuses! You know how much I hate being lied to and you did it anyway!"

"I didn't mean to Jess." he said calmly.

I let out a strangely choked laugh and, while shaking my head, licked my lips. "You'll heal fine if you rest." I told him and walked out.

Tuck called after me but the main doors were thrown open and an agent with her left arm all but hanging off was supported in, saving me from him. I resolved that when things with Lauren had played out I'd talk it out with him, not before.

**TmWtMwTmWtMw**

A week went by with neither sight nor sound of my brother, Tuck or Stuart: it was a blissfully tedious week. That Tuesday when I went to work Gemma told me the latest gossip about some paintball fiasco involving Tuck and that FDR had adopted a dog (he wasn't exactly an animal person). I listened as little as possible. They had made that bloody agreement and it was lying in ruins!

The day after that I was on my break from the ER in Mission hospital when something uncommon happened: my phone rang.

"Hello?" I asked, my phone trapped between my shoulder and my ear as I noised around in my purse.

"Hey Jessie." the young voice answered which made me immediately devote all my attention to the phone.

"Joe, what's wrong?" He never called me during the day and his voice was too controlled.

"I was wondering if…. If you're not busy then…. Could you…"

"Joey what is it?" I asked gently.

"Dad forgot me." he mumbled. "I'm at school; he was supposed to pick me up and if I called mom then she'd be mad at him so I figured if I called you then she wouldn't need to know." he rushed.

"I'll be there in fifteen Joe, don't worry." I pacified.

"Thank you." he said quietly before hanging up.

I caught Dr Park's arm as he made to leave the break room: he was a young doctor and always eager to prove himself. After he agreed to cover for me I was out of there and driving; seething and mad at Tuck. I was calm by the time I pulled up. It took me a few minutes to find the seven-year-old a hope had been sparked that maybe his dad had remembered. Alas, I found him dejectedly sitting on the steps – the only kid still there and a teacher hovering near the door behind him. It was heart-breaking.

"Hey Joe, whadda ya know?" I called gently.

He looked up rapidly and a grin transformed his face though disappointment still lurked around his eyes. "Hey Jane, how's the game?" he answered as he dashed to meet me.

Heading back to my car after a hug, we exchanged tales of how we'd been since we last came across each other. All the way to my house he kept up a constant chatter about school, home, Karate etc. and began to lose the sadness that had been clinging to him. When his homework had been done, dinner had been eaten and I had left several messages on both Tuck and FDR's phones we settled down to watch _AI: Artificial Intelligence. _Joe fell asleep half an hour before the end (which was a good thing because I always cry at it!) so when everything was shut off I gently shook him awake.

"Bed time." I whispered as he groggily blinked at me.

I guided him to the stairs and sat him down. "I just need to close the doors." I explained.

When you walk into my house there are doors to your left and right leading to the kitchen/dining room and living room respectively. About a meter from the living room door the staircase begins which narrows the hall leading to the ground floor toilet and the utility room. Upstairs my bedroom door is almost immediately on your right and the bathroom takes up the top right corner of the floor with a study next to it and the spare room down to the left.

Once I had closed all the doors I returned to Joe who was looking slightly more alert and asked "Why d'you do that? Uncle Frank does it too."

"Shut the doors?" He nodded. "When we were kids we both lived with Nana even though I went to school in Scotland. When I was five and he was ten there was a fire there. Lots of precious things got destroyed but Nana had closed the door to the dining room where all the family pictures were and they survived almost perfectly. It was a habit everyone got into after that." I explained as we went upstairs.

He nodded and mulled it over while I helped him into the PJ's he'd brought – apparently he didn't have any at Tuck's that fit him anymore – and settled him into my spare bedroom.

"Are you too old for a kiss goodnight?" I asked.

He smiled sleepily at me and shook his head so I kissed his cheek as he snuggled under the covers, already drifting off.

I readied myself for bed as I tried Tuck again and, again, got his voicemail.

"You bastard!" I whispered-yelled. "Your _son_ was miserable when I picked him up from school today because _you_ forgot him! Its Wednesday you _utter moron_! You told me how excited you were to have Joe while the schools were off then went and bloody _forgot_ him because you are too busy competing with FDR over this _Lauren_! You _promised_ _me _that you wouldn't let it affect Joe! And he didn't even want to call his mum because he knew she be pissed at _you_!" I ranted. "I swear to God that if you don't call me back the _second_ you hear this I won't _ever_ speak to you again. How could you do this to Joe you-" A small beep told me that I'd run out of time.

With a huff I slammed the device onto my bedside table and turned out the light. Making sure it was on loud I closed my eyes and calmed myself down, eventually finding sleep after planning all the things I was going to yell at a certain moron.

I awoke in the pitch black coughing. My eyes quickly caught a hazy orange glow creeping in through the gap below the door. Memories consumed me but one thought fought through them: get to Joe!

**Dun, dun, dun! I will write as fast as I can but reviews honestly do speed it up! Let me know how this was? Good? Bad? Too short? Too long? How's my characterisation? Is there anything you want to happen, see more of? Let me know!**

**Much love and thanks,  
Liv.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: …I can't begin to apologise or grovel enough to explain my absence so I won't offend you by trying. This is a small peace offering and, as quickly as I can, I'll try and get another one up soon. I will fully accept any abuse you would like to leave in reviews.**

**As always:**  
**Read, enjoy and…review?**  
**Much love, apologies and thanks,**  
**Liv.**

My bedroom door handle wasn't warm when I grabbed it. Keeping my pillow pressed against my face, I squinted to try to make out anything downstairs but flames made it an impossible task: they had consumed the front hall, crept up a quarter of the stairs and scorched the walls.

Joe stirred when I slammed the door. I crouched beside him and said in a calm voice "There's a fire downstairs. Take my phone," I pressed it into his palm. "and call nine-one-one. Tell them my address and that we can't get to the door. Can you do that?"

He nodded – eyes widened by terror and a touch of childish excitement – and repeated everything back to me. When he had the phone to his ear I moved to the other side of the room. Stored on the top shelf of the wardrobe for nostalgia's sake was a coil of rope from my climbing endeavours. Keeping one ear on Joe's steady but scared voice, I cursed in spite of myself when I looked out the window: flames were escaping from the broken kitchen window and licking the wall below – we weren't getting out that way.

Joe listened while I instructed him to keep his pillow over his mouth and nose. The fire department were on their way but I had decided that if we stayed in that room then we wouldn't make it out. With the rope over my back and Joe in front of me I tapped him on the shoulder once…twice…three times then jerked the door open. The heat had doubled in intensity and the fire had devoured its way two-thirds of the way up the stairs; snakes of a brilliant orange were striking out at our feet as we propelled ourselves into the bathroom.

"Listen to me Joey," I began. Kneeling next to him, I started tying the rope just underneath his bum and securing it at his waist. "I need you to hold on here," I positioned his hands in front of him. "and not let go until your feet touch the ground."

The window opened outwards and I lifted Joe onto the sill, kissing his forehead before retreating back a few steps. "Hold on." I wrapped the other end of the rope around my foot once to secure it. "Now lean back a bit." When there was enough tension I said "Just walk down the wall Joe. You'll be okay, I've got you."

The heat from the hall had melted any excitement from his face; he was close to tears now. "Jessie." he cried, his chin quivering as his shoulders slipped out of my view. "You'll be fine." I soothed.

It took three-hundred-and-seventy-six seconds for Joe to reach the ground. With every minute my right hand became more raw and numb. Each second added heat and noise from the fire to the room. And the next moment always brought further certainty that I was going to die. I was coughing so hard that keeping a grip on the rope became a laborious task. Joe wouldn't be able to undo the knot I'd tied so climbing out was my only option and I knew I wouldn't be able to. I manoeuvred myself onto the counter and threw the rope down so Joe could move away.

"Stand as far away…from the…from the house as you can." I shouted down to him between coughs. "Use the phone to…call your dad – if he doesn't answer try Uncle…Frank – and tell him what's…going…on!"

"Okay!" he called back and I saw his figure retreat by the light from downstairs.

The cool night air didn't do much to abate the effect the smoke was having on me and it was difficult to get any as smoke was heading out the open window and contaminating it. I tried to gage the distance between the window and the ground to work out if I could lower myself down but thinking was becoming harder.

Distant sirens sounded as Joe shouted up to me "They didn't answer!" in a distraught voice,

"Help is…coming Joe. Go to the…front of the…the house."

The bathroom was indistinct now, smoke was pouring in from the gap above the door that I'd always put off fixing. I couldn't take two breaths without coughing and my head lolled to the side: I no longer had the strength to hold it up. I think I remember hearing Joe shouting before deeper male voices joined in but then nothing.

**TmWtMwTmWtMw**

Blue and red flashes decorated my vision. Everything sounded fuzzy. Something uncomfortable was covering my mouth and nose and a rough blanket covering my body. When I found the motivation to open my eyes I found a low ceiling above me with cupboards covering the wall. My observation only made it that far because a mass of blonde hair interrupted me.

"You're awake!" Joe exclaimed in relief and excitement.

I could only nod as he hugged me. A paramedic interjected at that point; she made me drink nearly two litres of water as she checked me over. The whole time I watched the fire crews bring the last of the blaze under control. The hazy sky was being touched by dawn and a light spray of rain was falling. I vacated the gurney when I was given the all clear – if I had any trouble breathing I was to go straight to hospital – and settled Joe on it, making him as comfortable as possible so he was soon asleep. Lyn, the paramedic, promised to keep an eye on him as I wandered towards what used to be my home.

The kitchen window was smashed and had a thick layer of soot surrounding it which headed upwards. The same substance had coated the living room window – on the inside or out I couldn't tell – but the door was the worst. Now open, it was like a black hole. I couldn't make out anything inside; not the stairs or the hall or the window at the end. A fireman warned me to keep back and I numbly nodded, wrapping my arms around myself after wiping away a tear that had escaped.

"Jess? Jess!" I turned in time to make out Tuck's face before his shoulder was all I could see. "What happened? I had an alert put of your address ages ago and when I got a call…" he trailed off and hugged me tighter but I shoved him away.

"Where the hell where you?" I demanded.

Unfortunately I sounded a lot less aggressive than I had intended to due to my hoarse voice but I continued anyway. "Where have you been for over _twelve hours_ that you couldn't check your phone?"

"I…the fire was less than an hour ago. What are you talking about?" he said perplexed.

Instead of answering him I grabbed his shoulder and turned him to face the ambulance. "Your son. It's Wednesday…was Wednesday, you were supposed to pick him up from school! He could have been killed. _Where have you been_?"

"No." he breathed. "That was today: after my date with Lauren I was going to…" he rubbed his palm over his face. "but the apartment was flooded so I cancelled yesterday and…oh God, Joe."

Damn my feelings for him but my anger melted away. As I drew in a breath to say something comforting someone else shouted my name.

"Jessie, I'm so sorry I got here so late, I was…busy. What happened?" FDR said quickly as he hugged me. "A tranqu' dart, really Tuck?" he hissed over my shoulder.

"Wait, what?" I rasped, pushing him away.

It didn't take them long to shamefully admit the events of the last couple of days.

"What the…hell has gotten into the pair of you? Never mind, it's this Lauren." I said with contempt. "Do you have any idea how much this has affected the people around you? Do you even care about us anymore?"

"Jessie you know how much you mean to me!" FDR insisted. "You're my little sister; you're the only other one who understands what it's like to lose your parents!"

My laugh – more of a sob if truth be told – turned into a coughing fit and I waved the guys away when the both took steps towards me.

"My parents didn't die you idiot!" I snapped. Upon reflection, this was a really bad way to tell them the truth. "They left me! Nana told me when I turned twenty-one – I was born in Scotland; they were young…" another coughing fit shook me. "They won a lot of money and decided they wanted to travel rather than raise a kid so they…they left me with Nana and Grandpa with the money to raise me and instructions for schools and stuff and took off! They haven't heard from them since. Your parents loved you FDR, you know that, I was an unwanted burden!"

They took some time to process what I'd said and a realisation dawned on Tuck.

"When you turned twenty-one?" I nodded. "And you ran away to Scotland so FRD phoned me and had me track you down. God, we never did figure out why you left." He ran his hand over his face – pain was written there and I could tell that he wanted to say something more or hug and comfort me.

"Jessie-" FDR started but I shook my head.

"No! I'm done with both of you! You knew how much I depended on you _both_ for stability and you lose your heads over a woman. You let it corrode your friendship and _you_," I pointed at Tuck. "let Joe suffer for it. I'm through with it all…I through."

As I walked passed them Tuck called after me, "Jess, where are you going to stay?"

"Grandpa's coming down to pick me up: _he_ actually answers his phone." I told them without turning round.

Seeing that Joe was still asleep I walked around the ambulance and sank down onto the sidewalk. With tears of loss, abandonment and self-pity streaming down my face I sat in the rain until the old beige car showed up. Nana didn't talk to guys but came straight over to me. Clinging to her like I used to when I was a kid, I let them both bundle me into the car and head back home.

The only thing I was sure of was that I'd never felt as alone and helpless since I was twenty-one: staying in a youth hostel in Scotland after finding out that my parents had abandoned me. But back then Tuck had found me, he'd saved me; this time he was the reason my heart was in tatters.

**I'm sorry its short but I didn't want to leave you hanging even longer. **

**As always:**  
**Read, enjoy and…review?**  
**Much love, apologies and thanks,**  
**Liv.**


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